Abby : The Evil Genius
by E Salvatore
Summary: Hetty and Dumbledore take another stab at world domination, this time with a secret weapon: Abby The Evil Genius. Third and final one-shot in The Dangers Of Being Senile universe. Round Two of my SWB Initiative.


**ABBY : THE EVIL GENIUS**

**Hetty and Dumbledore take another stab at world domination, this time with a secret weapon: Abby The Evil Genius. Third and final one-shot in **_**The Dangers Of Being Senile **_**universe. Round Two of my SWB Initiative.**

* * *

><p>"It's going to blow!"<p>

"Everyone take cover!"

"Victory is ours!"

_BOOM!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>24 hours ago: July 3, 0047<strong>_

In the dark shadows of their lair (an old Caf-Pow! place), the trio hunch over various plan for _the Machine_; the very one that will give them unlimited access to an endless supply of good tea, Caf-Pow! and lemons, which are essential to the production of lemon drops, in case you, like Albus Dumbledore, haven't figured this out yet.

Finally, they have come to a conclusion. In an attempt at a dramatic gesture, the happy Goth (or Gothella, her new name for this operation) sweeps off all the plans from the table, causing them to land in a help on the ground.

"You…you _Goth_!" The elderly woman shrieks. "The plans are still in that pile!"

"Oops, sorry, Hettea." (Yes, that's her new name. Don't question it; I didn't, either.) Gothella shrugs, quickly bending down to retrieve the plans. Hettea rolls her eyes and waits, impatiently, for the Goth to pick up the plans and smooth it down on the table.

"So…we know what we're gonna do now."

"Indeed, Gothella, we do." Hettea pauses for dramatic effects.

"We…are going to build an explosive."

"Ka-boom!" Gothella rubs her hands together eagerly. From the third chair, which is half-hidden by the dark, an evil laugh rings out.

"Mwa ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Cut that out, Dumb-O-Dora!" Gothella snaps, irritated.

"You are not an evil wizard!" Hettea coldly informs him. The wizard in baby blue stands up – rather, he very quickly and very angrily pushes himself off the ground to tower over them – and shrieks, his lower lip trembling.

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Am too am too am too! There, I said it three times and you didn't and now you're still not saying anything so I WIN!" He storms off childishly, curling up in the corner.

Gathering up their plans, Gothella observes Dumb-O-Dora and raises one eyebrow. "You know, you're really not an evil wizard." Curling up into the fetal position, the mound of blue starts rocking back and forth, a trembling heap of sobbing man.

"Am too am too am too am too am too…"

"ARE NOT!" Hettea shrieks.

Dumb-O-Dora twitches, then faints.

I think he's heartbroken.

* * *

><p><em><strong>22 hours ago: July 3, 0218<strong>_

Gothella is seriously annoyed now.

And that, in itself, is a rare occurrence, considering that she's the happy Goth. But Hettea and Dumb-O-Dora have been trading "Am too!"s and "Are not!"s back and forth for the better part of two hours now, and Gothella really just wants to get on with this and build her freaking bomb already.

As she eyes an old Caf-Pow! poster, an abandoned one which was left behind when the company vacated this lot, inspiration strikes. She quietly mouths the slogan to herself again, double-checking to make sure that this is true. A few seconds later, she interrupts the fight between the two old ones.

"I've got it!"

The two wrestling forms still as her words ring out. The ninja had been winning, though the wizard did have a bit of an advantage, considering his height. But still – wrestling between a ninja and a wizard. A wizard in baby blue robes.

My money's on the ninja.

"Got what?" The man's voice is muffled; he's got a mouthful of sleeve. Gothella claps her hands once to restore order and the two spring to attention, all previous fights abandoned as they stand, waiting for Gothella's brilliant 'it'.

"We are going to have…"

"Ya huh?" Hettea and Dumb-O-Dora ask eagerly, their eyes shining like children's as they inch closer.

"We are going to have…"

Gothella's excitement is contagious. And seriously potent. The two are jumping up and down and squirming around, waiting for her to just come out with it already.

"We are going to have…"

"A battle of the Yo-Mama's!"

Oh sweet baby Jesus.

She is _not _serious.

…

Is she?

* * *

><p><em><strong>22 hours ago: July 3, 0231<strong>_

"The contestants have been given 13 minutes – precisely – to come up with their strategies, their attacks and most importantly…their swag!"

Gothella announces to a horrified crowd of kidnapped people. Really, she's just showing them some fun! What's with all the hysterical tears? Gothella decides she will never understand normal, un-Caf-Pow!ed people. (That is _too _a word! Because! Because I said it is!)

"We have-" Hettea scurries over and interrupts Gothella's introduction.

"Abigail-"

"My name is Gothella!"

"Okay, _Gothella_, Dumb-O and I just found out what this 'yo mama' business is really about, and I'm not so sure of this…"

"No! You must be sure! I can't listen to you guys whining anymore! My brain, my delicate, Caf-Pow-filled brain – it hurts!"

"But you see, we don't exactly feel comfortable talking bad about the other's mother…" Hettea trails off, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, that," Gothella waves off Hettea's concern. "That's easy. I figured this would happen, so we're just gonna bend the rules a little bit. Come up with something new."

"Something _new_?"

Damn it, what's with all these old people scurrying around? Dumb-O here almost gave me a heart attack!

"Yes, Dumb-O, something new."

"Something called…"

"A battle of the Mah-Mama's!"

This just got a whole lot worse.

…

I think.

I'm not sure.

Let's just see what happens.

* * *

><p><em><strong>22 hours ago: July 3, 0235<strong>_

Four minutes later, it's all sorted out. (Thank _God_.)

"In this first ever battle of the Mah-Mama's, the contestants will have to do the opposite of a Yo-Mama and repeatedly praise their _own _mothers. The one who comes up with the final, and greatest, compliment will win!"

"At stake, we have Dumb-O-Dora's reputation as an evil wizard. If he wins, he is totally one. If he doesn't…well, let's not get into that right now."

"So I ask you – ARE YOU READY?"

Gothella's booming voice just scares off the already-scared crowd. She sighs. "Look, you guys – I am totally letting y'all go once this is done. It'll take less than half an hour. Just cheer when you're supposed to, pick a side, and encourage them, okay?"

Silence.

More silence.

And then…

"Yay!"

"Yeah!"

"In the _house_!"

"In your _face_!"

Satisfed, Gothella takes a low bow. "Once again, mission accomplished."

Oh, she's just all self-lovin' and smug now.

Damn it, again with the Cheshire grin!

That grin is just creepy, y'all.

No, seriously.

Haven't you seen _Alice In Wonderland?_

No?

…

_Were you raised by wolves?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>22 hours ago: July 3, 0237<strong>_

Two minutes later, Hettea and Dumb-O stand on opposite sides of the packed room, facing off each other. They haven't changed at all; Dumb-O's blue robes have been deemed baggy enough and Hettea says wild tea-horses won't change her into some loose child.

So there.

We don't have any swag.

Face it.

This is the lamest thing _ever_.

Anyways.

"Over here, we have Hettea the Ninja! You don't wanna mess with mah home girl!"

"Whoop!"

Obviously, the crowd's been thinking the same thoughts I have. Everyone's cheering for the ninja. _Everyone_.

"And here we have Dumb-O! 'Em blue robes gone suffocate you!"

Silence.

Crickets chirping.

More silence.

…

_Awkward_.

Moving on.

"Let the battle…commence!"

Gothella quickly moves out of the way as Dumb-O starts strutting – well, actually, staggering, 'cause he's tired – to face Hettea.

"My mother's so pretty, when Aphrodite saw her, she called her 'my child'!"

"Aww, hell to the naw!" Gothella whined, picking up the slack where the crowd failed to.

"Well, my mother's so smart, she secretly ran this country for 2 decades!"

"Yeah, she went there!" The Goth harped, encouraging the people to cheer. Dumb-O stumbled for a little while before coming up with a comeback.

"My mother's so good, Mother Theresa worshipped her!"

"Oh no you di-dn't!"

Okay, Gothella might be a tad over-enthusiastic.

"My mother's so clever, Einstein died because he was awed by her intelligence!"

"My mother's so talented, Audrey Hepburn lost to her!"

"My mother's so grand, even Marie Antoinette liked her!"

"My mother's so smart, she invented your name!"

"You went there!" Gothella grins, signaling for the crowd to whoop.

Hettea's going pink the face; her brain is working so hard. Finally, her eyes narrow and Gothella springs in her direction, hoping to stop her.

Little Goth's too late.

"My mother's so great, she gave birth to _me_!"

"Oh yeah, mah girl did that!" Gothella grinned, hopping around.

"And we have a _winner_! Hettea the Ninja!" Holding up Hettea's hand, Gothella starts leading her around the room, showing her off as _We Are The Champions _starts playing, just as she had meant for it to. Oh, and there's confetti!

Yay! Everyone's cheering for the ninja! Strangers are hugging each other because they'd taken bets! Strangers are hugging each other because now they'll be set free! Strangers are hugging each other because they're horny!

Wait, where's Dumb-O-Dora?

Aww, hell to the naw.

* * *

><p>Dumb-O's on the rooftop.<p>

He plans to jump.

No one can put up with his theatrics anymore.

They lure him down with a jar of orange candy.

(All the lemon candy's with him.)

He's back on safe ground before he realizes he doesn't even _like _orange candy.

…

Oh, well.

* * *

><p><em><strong>19 hours ago: July 3, 0526<strong>_

The bomb is ready.

(Look, I know it's only been like 3 hours, but we've got an evil genius _and _a wizard on our side, so just let it go.)

(Let. It. Go.)

The…_thing _is huge, to say the least. They might not be able to get it out of the front door. Dumb-O says that he has 'ways of doing this' and 'abilities that should not be questioned', but Hettea and Gothella are a tad skeptical. (Actually, they're just obsessively skeptical.)

It's been decided, in a bout of patriotism, that they will not detonate the explosive until midnight, by which time it would be the 4th of July. (Please note that the weird British man had nothing to do with this.)

The thing is…no one knows _where _to detonate it. They've got 19 hours left to decide and transport the weapon, and then…

"KA-BOOM!"

Gothella is a little too enthusiastic, as usual. "See, if we bring it to this place, and set it right on top, at the rooftop, it'll blow really loudly and go _everywhere _and we will totally scare the masses and rule them!"

"And you're sure this was formerly an office for the FBI?" Hettea sounds wary; no one would blame her, I guess.

"Yep!" Popping the 'p', Gothella nods her head enthusiastically. "Totally."

"Dumb-O, what do you think?" In the corner, tied to a chair, is Dumb-O, restrained for his own safety. The ladies had resorted to this as a last ditch attempt after he'd escaped to the roof for the fourth time.

They lured him down with orange drops.

Again.

"Oops, my bad." Gothella laughs lightly as she removes the piece of cloth that muffled Dumb-O's voice.

"LET ME GO YOU TEA-LOVING TYRANTS! YOU CONTROL MY BODY BUT YOU WILL NOT BREAK MY MIND! LEMON DROPS WILL FOLLOW ME AND GIVE ME STRENGTH! LEMON DROPS WILL SAVE OUR SOULS! LEMO-"

Roughly, Hettea grabs the piece of cloth from Gothella's hands and ties it around Dumb-O's head again, blocking out his mad ranting.

"Lemon drops, my foot. You don't even have any more left! We used them all to bribe the nurses and guards!"

"Don't forget the little rabbits that refused to leave this place." Gothella pipes up.

"Oh, and the rabbits. The poor dears choked on the candy, though, I'm afraid." Hettea turns to face Gothella, breaking the bad news to her.

A beat.

All is quiet.

(Even Dumb-O's stopped raving.)

And then:

**"NO!** MY BUNNIES!"

(Gothella might not be such a happy Goth after this.)

* * *

><p><em><strong>18 hours ago: July 3, 0627<strong>_

Everything's fine; no one's suicidal anymore.

Sure, Hettea had to rush out at 6 in the morning to find Gothella a huge Caf-Pow!, but everyone's alright now. Even Dumb-O's happy 'cause Hettea got him some lemon candy, too. (They're apparently not as good as lemon drops, but…tyrants must make do with what they have.)

Gothella managed to make some sugared tea, too, so everyone's good for now. No sleep for the evil; they must persevere and complete their task.

And right now…that is to keep Gothella from bouncing off the walls.

"Oh, I'm a happy Goth, yes, I'm a happy Goth!" She's singing in the tune of the Gummy Bear song.

(You haven't heard the Gummy Bear song?)

(OMFG, you are kidding me.)

(No, seriously.)

(GO LISTEN TO IT!)

(You will be bouncing for the next 24 hours, I guarantee you!)

(Boink boink, boink boink.)

(Tee hee.)

"Oh, I'm a happy, yummy, cutesy little happy Goth, oh oh oh!"

And now's she actually doing the bouncy sounds.

"Boink-oink, boink-oink!" Except she's alternating with pig-ish grunts.

Oh sweet baby Jesus.

"GOTHELLA!"

Hettea yells to be hears over the commotion; Dumb-O's singing along, too.

"Yes?" Gothella stops singing…but she's still bouncing.

"You shouldn't just burst into song without any warnings. Or giving out lyrics!"

"Why?"

"Because…"

….

"I want to sing, too!"

Oh sweet innocent child of the Lord, now we have _three _of them singing!

To the Gummy Bear song!

….

In GERMAN!

* * *

><p><em><strong>15 hours ago: July 3, 0918<strong>_

"Approaching location; over."

"Copy that. Clear line of sight. Over."

"Copy that which copied that. Why must we say over? Over."

"Copy that. We're saying over because everyone says over. Duh. Dumb-O. Over."

"Copy that. Can you two stop discussing this? World domination is so close; all that power! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha! ... Over."

"Copy that. Alright, let's move in. Dumb-O and I'll carry the machine in. You move into position, Hettea. Over."

Dumping the flattened tin cans on the ground, Hettea moves into position: Two fists held out and one foot up in the air, ready to kick.

Scary ninja.

Gothella and Dumb-O slowly, _slowly _bring in the machine, which is covered by a piece of cloth with "No Danger At All!" and "Innocent Piece Of Technology" and "No, This Is Not Going To Be Used For World Domination" written all over.

Hello, how much more obvious can these people get?

"Hurry up, you slow creatures! My legs hurt!" Hettea hisses, prompting the duo to push the machine into the building at a rapid speed. Luckily, Gothella had thought to put wheels on the thing.

"Not that fast, you bumbling fools!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Dumb-O shrieked, waving his hands in the air. "First you want us to go faster, then slower, and now I'm just confused! Why are there so many options? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME?"

Breaking down, he curls up on the ground and starts sobbing.

Oh man, this is bad.

* * *

><p><em><strong>15 hours ago: July 3, 0929<strong>_

"Now, now, Dumbledore, calm down."

Somewhere in between all of his crying and sobbing, the wizard had demanded they use their _real _names because after hours of being called dumb, he'd just found out he didn't quite like it.

(All together now: eye roll)

"Come on, Albus – don't you want to own all the lemons in the world?" Abby is getting good at this comforting thing, considering that she's only known the guy for less than 12 hours.

Slowly, Dumbledore looks up.

"_All _the wemons in the wold?

"Yes," Abby nods. "_All _the lemons in the world. You just have to get up and get this thing inside with us."

"And mean wady won't shout no more?"

Hetty snorts and walks off to the machine.

"Mean lady won't shout anymore." Abby promises.

Dumbledore thinks this over for a second before getting up on his feet and dusting off his robes. "All right then; if you so desperately need me." He stalks off to the machine, leaving a dumbfounded Abby behind.

"Desperately?" She shrieks.

Oh man, this is _too _much.

Abby is _so _gonna get him.

"Abigail! Come now, let's get this inside!"

"Coming, Hetty!"

Get ready, wizard-boy.

Abby is out for you.

* * *

><p><em><strong>13 hours ago: July 3, 1153<strong>_

It's almost noon now, and still, Abby can't figure out a plan to prank Dumbledore.

She's all drained by this morning's events and even Caf-Pow!s won't be much help now.

So, Abby decides to take a nap. After all, everything's done: the machine is on the top floor, just waiting for them to bring it up to the rooftop, which they will do once it's dark.

Curling up on a long table (hey, there's not much to choose from, okay?), she closes her eyes and tries to sleep. It's going along quite well until…

"Boink-oink, boink-oink, boink-oink!"

"Cheshire grin!"

"Cheshire grin!"

"Boink-oink!"

Slowly, cautiously, Abby opens her eyes.

And jumps.

And screams.

**"AH!"**

**"OOH!"**

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was two pairs of big, inquisitive eyes, studying her. Oh, and let's not forget the matching, _evil_ Cheshire grins.

**"AH!"**

**"OOH!"**

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH- Okay, why are we doing this?"

Two shrugs.

"We don't know!" The old ones grin, then burst into laughter. "We don't know, we don't know, we don't know!" They chant, skipping around the room. (They fall to the ground after mere seconds, but dust off their bottoms and start again.)

Sitting up, Abby looks around the room, trying to figure out what's wrong. In the other end of the room, the duo are still chanting and skipping.

And then Abby spots it.

An empty jar.

Labelled _morphine._

Oh Holy Mother of Jesus.

* * *

><p><em><strong>13 hours ago: July 3, 1157<strong>_

It takes 4 minutes for Abby to figure out the golden rule: The only way to deal with high people is to get high yourself.

As you can imagine, things get progressively better (or worse, if you're not part of the trio) after that.

"We…we must…we must go…KA-BOOM!" A drunken giggle here, a snort there; Abby is not herself.

Obviously.

"Boom? Bomb? WHERE? WE MUST RUN! RUN FOR OUR LIVES AND OUR BEHINDS! RUN, I TELL YOU!" It turns out that morphine gives Dumbledore blood-shot eyes and a crazy appearance, so he looks positively nuts right now, whipping his head back and forth.

"RUN!" Hetty shrieks, doing just that. She circles the room three times, arms wide open before tripping and bumping into Abby.

"Oh, thank you, dearie. Now**…RUN!"**

Yeah, this is just great.

Oh, if sarcasm could kill…

* * *

><p><em><strong>8 hours ago: July 3, 1628<strong>_

Sleeping off the morphine had been a decidedly wise action since they'd almost gotten themselves killed one too many times while under the influence.

When they wake up though, it seems that the morphine has not really run its course yet. And then there's all the caffeine and sugar in their systems, too.

"Hetty, where are we?"

"I don't know, Abigail; the aliens have come."

"They have taken us hostage, my dear ladies. I'm afraid our collective knowledge and skills have gotten us into trouble."

"But…aliens don't need a tech. I mean, if they're smart enough to come here, then they won't need me."

"But they need Albus and me. And you will not leave us."

"Or what? You'll kill me? Hah!" Abby snorts. "The aliens will never let you go!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really, Dumbledore."

**"NO! RUN!"** Now _he_'s the one running around the room while Hetty scowls.

"Of course not," She snaps. "Sit, Albus. This will all be over soon. Now, Abigail – if they've come, then surely they will not let any of us go. We have but one choice: kill."

"Ooh, fun. Do I get a gun?" Abby seems a little too happy about this.

"If we can find one," Hetty allows. "In the meantime – Albus! Retrieve your glittered stick. I believe we might need it."

"Glittered stick? Man, you guys come up with the best slang for _those _things. But seriously, why would we need the guy's parts to take down aliens?"

"Abigail! Mind out of the gutter, please!" Hetty screeches as Dumbledore produces a formidable wand from his robes. "Ahh, thank you, Albus. Now, use it."

"How?"

"Well, you're the wizard, aren't you?"

"But…no, I'm not."

"Then why do you have the wretched thing with you?"

"Because…it's cool."

"You're British, you don't say _cool_!"

"Says who?"

"I!"

"I who?"

"I, Hetty!"

"And why must everything you say be true?"

"By the power vested in me by the Gummy Bears, I hereby pronounce all my facts to be true!"

"Hah, Gummy Bears don't even exist!"

A gasp.

"Oh no you did-n't." Abby harps, her accent thick and fake.

Oh, God, please not another yo mama battle.

Or mah mama.

Whatever.

Oh, never mind; it's turning physical.

"You're stupid!" A punch delivered by Hetty.

"You're dumb!" A shove, courtesy of Dumbledore.

"You're weak!"

"You're fat!"

"You're ugly!"

"You're stupid and dumb and ugly and GUMMY BEARS DO NOT EXIST."

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too do too do too! LEMON DROPS DON'T EXIST!"

With a gasp, Dumbledore falls to the floor, twitching.

Great, he's dead.

…

Oh never mind, he's breathing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>7 hours ago: July 3, 1742<strong>_

"Springtime, springtime, jolly-jing time!"

"Birdies sing time, finally begun!"

"La la la la la la la la la, la la la la la la la la!"

"STOP SINGING YOU OLD PEOPLE!"

"You don't like old people! Albus, she doesn't like old people!" Hetty gasps, giving Abby the evil eye.

"No! I do too like old people! I just don't like Strawberry!"

"But she's so bright and shiny and sweet and innocent!"

"EXACTLY!"

Silence.

"So, then…what do you like?"

…

"Unicorns!"

"Unicorns?"

"Yes, magical creatures! Did you know that they love Caf-Pow! Their leader, Priscilla even adds in candy to hers!"

"Unicorns drink Caf-Pow!"

"Oh, yes. One time, the little one, Eddie, stole mine! So then I got like, really angry, but he sang the unicorn song and I saw rainbows and all was okay."

"The unicorn song?"

"Oh, I'm a unicorn, yes, I'm a unicorn, oh I'm a jumpy, funny, magical unicorn! Oh oh oh…"

Oh Jesus, not the Gummy Bear song again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>4 hours ago: July 3, 2031<strong>_

"It is dark."

Hetty's observation is unnecessary; the old building doesn't have electricity, so no one had failed to realize the darkness.

"Night has fallen."

Dumbledore is just stating the obvious. No, seriously, just ignore Captain Obvious.

"Yes, dummies. Now let's go!"

"You're mean!" Hetty and Dumbledore chorus.

"I don't care! Let's go!"

"Okay."

Together, they climb up to the seventh floor before reaching the highest floor where they'd stashed the machine. Or weapon, really.

"Oh." Abby gasps.

"It's beautiful, Abigail."

"Just like a dream."

"Thanks, guys. It's…she's a beauty, isn't she?"

"She?"

"Well, no offense, but anything that powerful is obviously a she. Sorry, Albus."

"Meh, you're right. What's her name?"

"Priscilla." Abby announces after a moment's thought. "May the unicorns bless you as you destroy their habitats, along with everyone else's."

"May the unicorns bless you, Priscilla." Hetty and Dumbledore echo solemnly. Abby jumps.

"Now let's go blast her into pieces!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>3 hours ago: July 3, 2153<strong>_

"Okay, now what?"

"Now…we wait for the fireworks to start."

"And you're sure they'll be punctual?"

"Albus, stop being so snobbish. We Americans are great, okay?"

"As you say, Abigail."

"Grr. British." Abby mutters under her breath.

"Americans." Dumbledore mumbles.

"Germans!" Hetty announces. "Can we just wait for the fireworks?"

"Whatever."

"As you wish, Henrietta."

"We've got two hours or so left, though." Abby notes. "What do you guys wanna do?"

Hetty grins.

(Damn it, that dang Cheshire just won't leave me alone! Go back to Wonderland, you mutt!)

(Oh, wait, it's a cat. Never mind.)

"Sugar, anyone?"

This is not going to end well.

* * *

><p><em><strong>2 hours ago: July 3, 2234<strong>_

**"Whopee!"**

"Bounce-bouncy-bounce!"

"Boink-oink!"

Yeah, didn't go well.

I told you so.

* * *

><p><em><strong>2 hours ago: July 3, 2237<strong>_

"Lemons!"

"Oranges!"

"APPLES!"

…

"Vampires!"

"Werewolves!"

"VIRGOS!"

…

Wait, Dumbledore read _Twilight_?

* * *

><p><em><strong>2 hours ago: July 3, 2241<strong>_

"Miss Lange, I do believe that we have a date after this."

"I'm not quite sure, Miss Sciuto."

"Well, then. Mister Dumbledore?"

"Of course, Miss Sciuto."

"Wait, what were you asking me?"

"If you'd go experiment with me after this. I was going to make tea-flavored Caf-Pow!, but since Hetty's backed out, I guess we can try making lemon ones."

"Oh, absolutely, young Abigail."

"Wait, tea-flavored? Yes yes yes, Abby!"

"Too late, Hetty."

"But…but… TAKE ME TAKE ME TAKE ME!"

"Is this what I sound like when I'm being cute?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>2 hours ago: July 3, 2258<strong>_

"Only one hour to go now."

"And two minutes."

"Thank you for that, Abby."

"You're welcome, Hetty."

"DUMBLEDORE!"

Yeah, I'm not sure why he just did that. It might be the usual reason – insanity.

* * *

><p><em><strong>1 hour ago: July 3, 2346<strong>_

"Everyone into positions!"

"What positions?"

"The ones we discussed!"

"Oh!"

…

"Huh?"

"**ARGH!"**

* * *

><p><em><strong>1 hour ago: July 3, 2351<strong>_

"Okay, Dumbledore, you need to go hide."

"WHY?"

"Because if not you'll run around like a decapitated chicken."

"But Hetty can stay."

"Because I'm a ninja!"

"But I'm a wizard!"

"Ninja!"

"Wizard!"

"Ninja!"

"Wizard!"

"Nin-"

"GOTH! ANGRY, ANGRY GOTH!"

"Oopsie."

Well, at least they have the decency to look sheepish.

"Look, both of you just go away, okay? Stay close enough to watch it blow, though."

"Okay."

"Just five more minutes, Abby," She mutters to herself. "Just five."

"And then…KA-BOOM!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Present Time: July 4, 0000<strong>_

"It's time, it's time!"

"Mwa ha ha ha ha ha!"

"WE ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD!"

"SO CLOSE!"

"EVIL! WE ARE EVIL!"

"It's going to blow!"

"Everyone take cover!"

"Victory is ours!"

_BOOM!_

And then…

"WHAT?"

"ABIGAIL!"

"What?" Oh, she's good at this 'pretending to be innocent' lark.

"Do not _what _us, Abigail – the entire thing is spewing Caf-Pow! and tea and lemon juice!"

"Well, of course it is! The mixture will make everyone more compliant to you guys!"

"What logic is that, young Abigail?"

"Oh, shut up, Dumb-O; I'm not _that _young. Look, bottom line is, I'm the evil genius here. And if I say this will make world domination easier for you guys, then I'm right. I _need _you guys to take over the world!"

"Why?"

"Because, Hetty, Caf-Pow! is crazy expensive now. You guys won't charge me, right?"

"No, I suppose we won't."

"Okay; now, let's run before the second one blows."

"There's a second one?"

"'Course there is! It's the real bomb!"

"Oh, okay. Come now, Albus, we must-"

"**RUN!**" And the wizard proceeds to do just that.

* * *

><p><em><strong>5 minutes later: July 4, 0007<strong>_

**KA-BOOM!**

Abby smiles as the other two share a Cheshire grin.

Sound effects are lifesavers.

* * *

><p><em><strong>2 hours later: July 4, 0207<strong>_

"Abby? How did it go?"

Abigail discreetly moves closer to a corner away from the two partying hooligans. "Oh, hi, Callen. Everything went off perfectly; don't worry."

"And the bomb?"

"Was filled with Caf-Pow!, tea and lemon juice. As I said, don't worry."

"How are they?"

"High on sugared tea and lemon candy. They are entirely convinced that they've taken over the world, and as long as no one tells them otherwise, we should be fine. Someone from your side just needs to keep sending them good tea and lemon drops every other week."

"I'll take care of that; Kensi'll speak to the nurses at the home and let them know about the…_situation_."

"Okay, that'd be perfect."

A pause. And then:

"Thanks, Abby. I don't know what we would have done without you. Eric and Nell are taking a vacation somewhere, so I had to call you in because those two…well, they really are capable of taking over the world, if they want to."

"Aww, shucks. It's nothing, Callen."

"Nothing? You just saved the United States from two senile elders trying to conquer it! And all in less than 24 hours. You're amazing, Abby."

"Oh, well." She shrugs.

"I _am _Abby the Evil Genius."

* * *

><p><strong>HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, first things first: I am <strong>_**so **_**sorry for the delay. Fact is, I'm still blocked. Writing these pieces…well, it's been a little tough 'cause nothing seems to come out right. But I hope it's worth the wait.**

**Well, two down; one to go. **

**Or maybe two. Do you want two? Well then, go vote on my poll and lemme know if you want a fourth SWBI – a 4****th**** of July special, naturally! VOTE! (Though I'm not sure if I'll make it, since I've still got **_**Double Trouble **_**to write after this.)**

**Alright, how did I do? Was there enough crazy? Funny? Evil? Abby? I'm not so sure, y'all. And I really wanted this to be **_**something**_**, since it's the last in the **_**Dangers **_**universe. So be sure to let me know and reassure my deflated ego. (Just ignore the last part, please.)**

**How do you share your thoughts? Well, you review! Or you can send me a PM. Or maybe a tweet would suit you? I've got an e-mail, too! Or if you're just being grouchy and don't wanna talk to me, why don't you just check out my homepage, silently?**

**Thanks for the reviews on the previous installment, and all kidding aside, I seriously hope you guys enjoy this one. One more day to go!**

**P.S, I know this sucks. The crazy has left me; humor isn't talking to me either. So this is what you get. Sorry, guys. (Yeah, I'm just gonna go hate myself now.)**

_**E Salvatore,**_

_**July 2011.**_

* * *

><p><strong>The Screw Writer's Block Initiative (SWB Initiative) is open to everyone – and I mean everyone – who's ever won against writer's block. And if you're battling it right now…well, you've got perfect timing! Focus on a small plot bunny that just won't leave you alone and write a one-shot of your choice. Be sure to mention the Initiative or SWB Initiative. Come on, let's kick writer's block's a$$!<strong>


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